


Crash Course

by PippinPips



Series: Zombie Apocalypse 'Verse [5]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PippinPips/pseuds/PippinPips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's day one of the Zombie Apocalypse, but this time it's Erik's story about how he started his path. The very one the leads him to Charles Xavier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash Course

He’s on his way to work when it happens to him. He isn’t even sure at first what exactly is going on, just that something is odd. People aren’t moving like they should and then there is The feel amongst them that just puts Erik on edge. He notices the metal first as it rushes towards him, and after that he hears the screams of terror. Yet, along with the first wave he feels the second group, their movements he also tracks by their metal. He steps back and watches. The first group looks terrified and the second, well the second is something Erik is sure he only saw on his television screen as a child. They’re not really all that coordinated, but they don’t care about pain nor do they seem to take much notice to their surroundings not when there is free meat before them. He peels himself from the wall and pulls a pipe along with him. Fingers wrapping around it, Erik knows there has to be more. Humans don’t just fall like dominos.

They fight, they spit and they don’t fall unless they kick and scream. Erik tightens his grip. To his left something shoots out and wraps around his neck. Whatever it is, it tightens around his neck like a vice and starts dragging him backwards. Instinctively, Erik pushes the pipe forward. His powers take over most of the directing and it turns almost into a heat seeking missile. The pipe does its job, except as the appendage unwraps from Erik’s neck, smoke blooms around him. It distorts his vision making him blind to the world at least with his eyes. He stretches out his senses and he can feel them every single creature as it starts to converge on him. He’s not quite sure what he’s done to grab all of their attention but as he hacks and coughs Erik tries to best to unearth something anything.

Everything his powers touch won’t help against a horde of _them_. It’s best to cut and run, he thinks and from what he can tell there is an opening behind him, where they aren’t. Pulling his shirt above his nose and mouth he pushes through smoke—his eyes burn. He’s running at his top speed when he hears them, their feet slapping against the ground behind him. They’re sloppy, but like he’s noticed before they don’t care if they stumble over debris.

Erik rips a door from its hinges and dives into it. He’s already starting to feel weak with all the use of his abilities. Still he pulls a gun from off the wall and twists to see the first of the horde rush in after him. They look like humans, but Erik doesn’t let that bother him too much. He seals off any cue that tells him this is wrong and instead loads the gun as quickly as he can. The creatures run at him, thinking he must be some tasty morsel. Erik grits his teeth and pulls the trigger. Moving with the recoil he manages a couple more shots before he dives back behind the counter. More crash against the glass rattling it, and Erik’s entire being rattles with it. He doesn’t stay long, he can’t or he’ll be dead. Pushing away from the counter he runs for the back door. He needs more supplies, but it’ll have to be something he grabs while on the run because he’s alone. Like usual.

The horde keeps behind him for a while making sounds that makes it as if they want nothing more than to sink their teeth into him, but Erik doesn’t stop, not until they peter off. He doesn’t know where they go, if it’s because they find other survivors or if they’re just not as focused.

It’s been three hours by the time Erik finds himself in an abandoned house. His limbs shake with exhaustion and the gun feels like a weight he isn’t sure he’s going to be able to carry for much longer. Almost as a last ditch effort Erik slides the locks closed and melts most of them, yet after he does everything goes black. Time passes, but when he awakens Erik isn’t sure how long the time has passed. He’s on an unknown couch his fingers limping clutching a mostly broke barrel of a gun and his entire body aches. Though the second he gets his wits about him he raids the cabinets and whatever he can get his hands on. He sticks mostly to canned food and other non-perishables. The noises outside pull at his senses, but Erik ignores them mostly he needs to replenish not only his food but his weaponry as well. He won’t last long if he walks out with only food. He stretches out his strained senses just enough to try and find if there is anything he can use.

No guns.

But whoever owned the house had a tool shed. Erik opens the door the only way he can and sprints across the green grass. Somehow he doesn’t attract much attention, but then again he’s one person in a fenced in backyard. He yanks open the door. Inside there are tools, but sitting on the wooden bench like some sort of prize is a chainsaw. Short a gun, Erik floats it over to himself and using some of the left over twine he ties a gas can to the backpack he’s procured from the house. He takes a deep breath and presses on.

 

The passage of time for Erik is a precarious thing. He starts counting the days and nights, but then he starts counting the number of groups he teams up with and then leaves, or they leave him. He is just post his twenty-seventh group, they’re all dead because they won’t listen to him and Erik tries not to feel the weight of disappointment on his shoulders.

He’s rounding a corner when he runs into him. A wide eyed man with flopping brown hair and a cricket bat. He looks almost as startled as Erik feels to meet a survivor so soon after losing a group. He usually doesn’t see anyone until at least a week after his last split, at the soonest. The man gives him a tight, yet still somehow welcoming, smile.

“Hello,” he greets. Erik notices that the man is English, at least that’s where his accent is from. He only takes a few moments to think of if there still is an England. Instead of greeting the man in return, Erik lifts his chainsaw, the very one he’s been working just by his abilities for the past two days.

“Do you know where I can fill this up?” he asks. The man brightens a little.

“Yes! I do. Just, do you have a gun? It’s a bit congested out there. I think they’ve found someone else,” the man tells him. Erik thinks back on the group he’s left, or maybe it was they left him. He pulls a machine gun out for the makeshift hostler.

“I’ll either need a new one soon or to restock,” Erik tells him. Blue eyes nods.

“Understandable.” Blue eyes pauses for only a moment before he shoves one hand forward. “I’m Charles Xavier, by the way.” He offers his hand. Surprisingly, maybe to both of them—Erik can’t tell—he takes Charles’ hand.

“Erik Lehnsherr.” Charles grins at him wide, like he’s so happy that Erik is talking to him.

“Excellent, now shall we get you filled up?” Charles asks. He motions towards the chainsaw.

Eventually Erik starts keeping count by the days, seeing as Charles never leaves him, but then he keeps a second count on how many groups Charles gives up for him. He wants to pull Charles close and shake him at the same time. Also, he wants to kiss the man silly, press him against a wall and just ravish him, but Charles is his only companion and the only person Erik isn’t willing to chase away. So he’ll hide for a little while longer, just as he can feel that Charles is hiding, if just for a few more days.

They find Charles’ old friend Tony and his team before Erik can ever confess. 


End file.
